Page 126 of Chasing Sarah

I scramble to get my fingers between his hands and my neck, but he’s too damn strong. His anger only feeds into his strength.

“But then you had to go and get your fucking brothers involved.”

My brain struggles to process his words. The pressure behind my eyes builds as he strangles me.

“They trashed my fucking safehouse. They drew the attention of the neighbors who then called the cops.”

My feet slide along the concrete. I continue to fight for my life, but I feel myself weakening.

“After what you’ve done tonight, I’m going to do what I did to them.” He jerks me forward, bringing his face to mine. My vision blurs, and I feel as though I’m suspended in the air.

“I’m going to watch you burn alive.”

My eyes widen, focusing just enough to see the truth in his dark eyes. Blinding rage explodes in my chest. My family is gone because ofhim.My brothersburnedbecause ofhim.

My brothers’ voices echo inside my mind, telling me to fight harder. To show this piece of shit what happens when you mess with family.

I move one hand away from where he has his grip around my neck, lowering it to my side. My fingers strain as I reach for the dagger sheathed at my outer thigh.

Tears burn and spill from the corners of my eyes.

“I’m… going…to…” My voice is a throaty rasp and it’s agonizing to get the words out.

“… watch… you…bleed,” I growl the final word and thrust the knife into his lung.

His grip loosens. Stumbling backward, his hand hovers over the protruding handle.

I cough and gasp for air, my throat screaming in pain. My limbs feel heavy when I push off the box at my back.

With wobbly steps, I close in on Eddie. His mouth silently opens and closes like a fish. His panicked eyes dart in all directions, trying to find someone who can help him.

“You took them from me,” I pant.

He falls to his knees with wide, pleading eyes.

A sadistic smirk lifts the corner of my mouth. “I said I’d make you beg for mercy at my feet.” I crouch down on one knee, setting my forearm on my thigh.

“So,beg.”

Metal crunches as I slam against the asphalt.

“Xander!” I scream, tears staining my cheeks.

All four of my older brothers come running at the sound of my cries.

My palms and knees hurt so much, and little pieces of the road cover the bleeding scrapes.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“Who did this?”

“What the hell?”

They scan the neighborhood, stopping to glare at the kids sitting on their bikes across the street. Not one of them attempted to help me.

“Bobby pushed m-me off my bike,” I stammer. “A-and I cut my hands and knees on the ground.”

---